Kiss My Eyes And Lay Me To Sleep
by SierraKathleen
Summary: Castiel reveals the depths of his feelings to Dean and the hunter unexpectedly allows a few of his own emotions to be stirred. Rated M for Mature Content.
1. Part I

Hello everybody! Sorry that I haven't posted in a few days, but that was because I was working on this – drum roll please. Ta da!! Haha, this is just a quick short story I decided to write up … I wanted to get some experience before adding any intense parts to "A Struggle For Affection". Keep in mind that this is completely separate from that story of course, and this is just the first part of two. Enjoy!!

* * *

Dean laid his body on the soft mattress of the motel bed. After a long day's hunt it felt pleasing to relax – if only for a while. Sam had long since fallen asleep, reading on about other possible haunting in the surrounding area. And Dean, being the gracious big brother that he was, had pulled the bed sheets over Sammy and turned out the nearby light. This vaguely reminded Dean of when he and Sam were kids and John would go out on hunts, leaving them alone in crappy motel rooms such as this one for days on end.

Those were some of the best, yet worst, times that Dean could recall upon. For it during those anxious hours that Dean and Sam would not rest, but bond. Of course, Sammy did most of the bonding, but it was still pleasant for Dean to remember never the less. And as Dean sat in the hushed darkness, watching his _pain in the ass little brother's_ chest inhale and exhale slowly, his thoughts drifted to a time when Sammy needed him most.

It was Christmas, if Dean remembered correctly – yes, it must've been right around the time of the holidays. John had been gone on a hunt for several days, leaving Dean in charge. It was on that evening particular Sammy had begged Dean to turn on the radio, even though he knew Dean would've preferred silence – two or three days into a hunt, Dean _always_ preferred silence. But still, Sam had pleaded and Dean had reluctantly given in.

Jingle Bells had come on the air, but there was no Christmas joy to be felt on this night. Instead, Sam lay curled in a ball on his bed, crying. Crying that dad wasn't around, mom was nowhere to be found, and – most of all – that normality simply was not a part of their lives. And even though he wasn't a loud crier, Dean could still hear Sam's sniffles and so he knew. You would think, amidst all the chaos Dean felt inside himself, that he would find the strength to comfort Sammy like he always did. But instead, Dean chose this night to reveal the truth to Sam – the truth about what John really did for a living, the kind of creatures he hunted down and _killed_. He decided to share his pain with young Sammy – perhaps out of self-comfort, but still he had _spilled his guts,_ if you will.

Sam had obviously not seen it that way, however. Yes, he cried, but later had thanked Dean for his honesty – for being the only one honest with him. He had wrapped his arms around Dean, swallowing handfuls of his shirt within his palms. And Dean just held Sam there, cradling him gently, close to tears himself.

And suddenly Dean was snapped back to reality – reality that tears were indeed streaming down his cheeks in this moment. "Oh, Sammy," Dean whimpered into the night. He allowed one more steaming tear to fall, before wiping them all away and straightening up. He cleared his throat, slowly rising to stretch his tired muscles.

With a rustle in the air, Dean could sense that another presence had just entered the room. "Hello, Dean," Castiel said, obviously unaware that Sam was attempting to sleep.

"Shhh," Dean hissed, "Sammy's trying to rest, you know." Castiel looked at him strangely for a moment. "Sam," Dean corrected himself sternly.

Castiel walked around the edge of the bed, coming closer to Dean's location. "Perhaps it would be best if we talked somewhere else then," he suggested. Before Dean even had a chance to voice his say, Castiel's fingers were upon his forehead and they were teleported across the universe to some unknown and reserved place.

They were now standing on a quaint wooden bridge, overlooking a large lake. Surrounding them stood breath taking shades of fiery orange and burnt yellows, dangling from the umber branches of trees just waiting to fall to the earth below. And the air in this place was just so refreshing, Dean inhaled deeply. For a moment, he'd almost forgotten that he was here with Castiel. He opened his eyes to find Castiel staring at him – not as if he was bewildered by any means, but charmed one could say.

Dean cleared his throat, before taking an awkward step away from the angel. "This is all fine and dandy Cas, but why are we here?"

"Right to business, I see," Castiel remarked, locking his hands behind his back in a soldier like manner, "I find this place settling. It allows me to be open with myself, you might say." His feet tapped slowly on the wood beneath them, as he took a few steps towards the end of the bridge.

"So angels are lying to themselves now, is that it?" Dean asked sarcastically.

Castiel smiled – openly freaking _smiled _– at Dean's statement. Oh, the joys of the mockery in which Dean Winchester possesses. "You would be surprised," Castiel replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He let out a long drawn sigh as he leaned against the railing of the bridge.

"So," Dean persisted coming a little closer, "enlighten me."

For a brief moment, their gazes locked, and Castiel could feel his heart skip a beat. But Dean quickly looked away, never being one to stare for long. Castiel longed to feel the burn of Dean's eyes on him though – perhaps it would bring comfort to him in whatever heartfelt confession he was about to make. "These – emotions, you may have noticed, are growing on me," Castiel said after a pause.

"Yeah, and?" Dean continued – he seemed almost anxious for what Castiel was prying at.

"And, I'm not sure how to act on these emotions," Castiel responded, looking Dean straight in the eye.

Dean blinked vigorously. Suddenly, his lips had become very dry so he moistened them with a flick of his tongue. "Well, uh," he hesitated, avoiding eye contact with the angel, "there are a lot of, um, emotions you know." He cleared he throat, and tugged slightly at the back of his neck.

"Dean," Castiel gasped nervously, placing a hand on his shoulder. The feeling of the fabric beneath Cas's fingers burned to the touch and Castiel was speechless as Dean turned to face him once again. _He's so beautiful, _Castiel thought, _truly beautiful._

And before the angel even came to his senses about his actions, both of this hands were cupped tenderly on Dean's face – his tongue swiftly breaking Dean's lips apart as their mouths collided. Castiel felt his way along the inside of Dean's mouth as quickly as possible, fearing that this moment – _this glorious moment_ – would not last. Tooth by tooth, Castiel memorized every line and every curve. And he savored every bit of taste he absorbed – an interesting combination of alcohol and toothpaste. But this only made Castiel take pleasure in it even more, longing for it to last.

Gently, Dean pulled himself away from Castiel, staring in disbelief. _Where in the hell did he learn to kiss?_ Dean thought astonished. Castiel felt his heart sinking at the nearly terrified look in Dean's eyes – but his fears quickly subsided, as Dean firmly wrapped his arms around Castiel's back tugging him closer than ever before.

Dean was definitely the more aggressive one, needing to be in control. Castiel determined this quite easily as Dean shoved him over the hand railing of the bridge, nearly knocking Castiel over the edge. Cas removed his hands from the back on Dean's neck, which was now sweating quite a bit, and placed them onto the banister for support. He let his eyelids flutter closed, just enjoying all the tingling sensations that were coursing through his body in this moment.

Dean loved the way his tongue felt in Castiel's mouth – both the warmth and moister colliding – oh, it was like magic. _Magic_, Dean repeated to himself again. He mildly fought away Castiel's tongue as he separated, tugging slightly on his bottom lip. The moment their mouths were disconnected, Dean's body went into a minor shock state – his whole essence burned for Castiel. Although, Dean had bigger plans for the obviously inexperienced angel.

Castiel swallowed deeply at the departure of Dean's lips from his own. A shiver ran through him though as Dean tenderly slid one of his legs in between Cas's. And Castiel could feel something building inside his chest – similar to that of a cough, but not quite. With one swift movement, Castiel jerked his head back as Dean began to run his lips down Cas's neck. Castiel's eyes widened, a low moan rising from his throat.

The hair on the back of Dean's neck arose, at the sound of Castiel's voice in such a pleased tone. The gritty feeling of Castiel's stubble against Dean's lips felt strangely satisfying, but it did not stop Dean from working some of his further _magic_. Placidly, Dean's hands pulled on Cas's flimsy cobalt tie, revealing more of the white buttoned shirt that lay beneath. Almost like that of a second nature, Dean's fingers popped open the first few top buttons. Dean's tongue rapidly skimmed over the newly exposed skin, leaving trails of shimmering saliva behind in its wake.

"Ah, Dean," Castiel panted. He lifted one of his hands to Dean's scalp, tugging playfully at his short hair. Dean moved about past Castiel's jugular, feeling a rushing pulse causing the skin to pump vigorously.

Quickly, he fulfilled the urge to rejoin their lips. This time they were not completely connected, but instead gave each other multiple slobbery pecks. Dean lowered one of his hands sneakily, gently feeling over the trench coat material surrounding Castiel's pocket. He grazed over that rather hurriedly, now feeling Cas's pant fabric beneath his fingertips.

As Dean ran his hand smoothly up Castiel's pant leg, Cas's breath increased now becoming short and wispy huffs. Dean's eyes amplified in alarm, and he nearly jumped back at what was just revealed to him. Tenderly, Dean's fingers ran over Cas's inner thigh, exposing that Castiel was about as hard as Dean was – if not firmer.

Suddenly it all became clear to Dean where this situation was headed (not like it wasn't obvious to him before, but we're not going to go there). He was here – wherever _here_ is – making out with Castiel, getting extremely turned on by the irony of it all. And it occurred to him in this moment that this just wasn't going to work – this _position_ simply wasn't going to work. Of course, Castiel had to have picked the worse possible place on this planet to make his feelings known. _Damn it,_ Dean thought scoping the area for a bed he prayed would just pop out of nowhere.

However, there wasn't going to be any bed, so Dean would simply have to make do with what he had available. _What the hell do I have?_ He thought hastily, his eyes scanning over the nearby area. A pavilion – it wouldn't have been Dean's first choice, but then again _this_ probably wouldn't have been his first choice either.

Abruptly he yanked himself from Castiel, leaving Cas's expression in bewilderment. Under any other such circumstances Dean would have busted out in raging laughter, but now obviously wasn't the best time – what with this bulge growing in pants and all. Speedily Dean lead Castiel like a dog by his partially undone tie.

Fairly soon they were standing beneath the pavilion next to one of many picnic tables. Castiel seemed to have almost regained his usual self, his expression blank. Dean was quite the opposite, now a truly exhilarated man. But he knew that he would have to have some self-restraint, for this was Castiel's first time and it should be memorable – at least since it couldn't be particularly special, or _classy_ in this instance. Hell, Dean must've deflowered several virgins in his time, but as he lifted his hands to remove Castiel's trench coat he could not hide their trembling.

Carelessly, they both allowed the tan coat to fall onto the cement ground beneath them. Swiftly, Dean lowered his hands ready to take off Castiel's tie, but Cas's hands caught him in the act. He grabbed a hold of them tenderly, holding him in his own for a moment. Then, he gracefully lifted them to his face, kissing each one of them. Dean closed his eyes and breathed deeply, allowing Castiel's fingers to glide over his torso fidgeting with his shirt. Never the less though, Dean offered Castiel some assistance in this difficult task, not to mention the rest of their clothing articles.

In no time at all, they'd both been stripped down to their bare chests and pants – no hectic coats, no nothing to get in their way. Castiel surprisingly, was the one to make the first move. He softly ran his fingers over Dean's clavicle, before leaning in to kiss him tenderly. The heat being produced from them in this moment was almost unbearable, and Castiel thought for certain that he would faint – if not for the support of Dean's hands firmly placed on either side of his hips.

Dean grasped Cas's waist rather forcefully, lifting him slightly off the ground which proved to be surprisingly light weight and effortless. Castiel sat on the edge of a picnic table now his legs spread widely, Dean fitting there like a piece to a jigsaw puzzle. Dean rubbed his hands over Castiel's shoulders, gently lowering his upper body to rest of the refreshingly cold wood of the table. Castiel gasped loudly as Dean's lips glided over his pectorals and other abs. He felt a grin flicker across Dean's lips as he made light bite marks all about Castiel. Cas ran his hands down either side of the table, grasping at anything and everything there was to be held. His hands needed to busy, very busy indeed.

Dean soon provided the opportunity to fulfill Castiel's wishes, leaning in to kiss him. This provided just enough space between them for Castiel to slip his hands amid their naked chests and down to Dean's belt buckle. Rather nervously his hands pulled it from the clasp, slipping the leather out of its attached position.

And suddenly Dean paused for a moment – with this, Castiel paused with him. Dean just stared into his eyes and smiled. Gently he placed his hand on Castiel's cheek, before kissing him tenderly. Following this, he stood up straight and yanked his belt from his waist. He discarded it rather imprudently, almost as if it were a show for Castiel who just sat back and watched. Castiel smiled eagerly as Dean began to slip off his pants – first revealing boxers, but then gradually showing some skin.

With what felt like an eternity, Dean's hands then moved on to Castiel's pants. His fingers playfully circled the button a few times, before popping it open and beginning to pull down the zipper. The second Castiel's fly was pulled down far enough, a fairly stiff entity emerged forcefully outward. Castiel gasped at this, and Dean seconded the notion. "Wh- wh–," Castiel stuttered, not entirely able to get the words out that he wished to speak.

Dean outwardly laughed at the angel's expression. Castiel's eyes flashed at him with brief anger and the utmost uncertainty. "It's okay," Dean managed. Finally he was able to regain himself, and he casually cleared his throat. "Don't worry," he whispered leaning in towards Castiel, "it's a good thing." With that, he delivered an assuring peck to Castiel's lips, before venturing downward. "A_ very_ good thing," Dean muttered, rubbing his hands over Castiel's pelvic region.

Castiel felt his breath quicken, Dean's hands like ash to the touch. He'd never felt this many sentiments compiled inside himself before – _never_ in his two thousand year experience. And so he was surprised when he could feeling Dean's fingers trembling as he grasped the edge's of Castiel's underwear.

Ordinarily, the panties were never a problem when it came to Dean. But these weren't entirely ordinary circumstances here. And so Dean paused for a moment, just staring at all that lay beneath him. Finally, he curved his fingertips around the elastic of Castiel's boxers and slowly pulled downward. Dean coughed and nearly gagged once Castiel was fully revealed to him. It wasn't that there was anything particularly disgusting about Cas's nether region, other than the fact that it was _his_ nether region. And even though Dean was quite a DJ himself, there was still a bit of stereo equipment that he just wasn't used to dealing with – quite a few more knobs and levers, if you get the gist of it. So, out of politeness more than anything, Dean had to turn away from the angel. He covered his mouth, desperately trying to conceal the strange noises leaving his mouth.

"What's the matter?" Castiel panted, obviously nowhere near as appalled by the situation as Dean was.

"Nothing, I–," Dean inhaled and exhaled deeply, "I just need a minute here."

Castiel sat up from the table. "If this is _uncomfortable_ for you, we can simply return to the motel room," Castiel soothed.

_We can simply return to the motel room,_ Dean repeated in his mind. It sounded terribly cheap to him – almost as if Castiel expected him to back down. But this only made Dean want to get on with – well, whatever they were going to get on with. He turned to face Castiel once more, filled with confidence this time around. "No," Dean replied firmly, gripping Cas tightly and giving him a moist kiss, "let's do this."

Castiel held onto Dean's face as their forehead pressed against one another. He sighed as a pleasant grin came over his face. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment," he whispered.

Chills flew down Dean's spine, as they were connected once again. This time the kissing was more of a blur as they both fought to release each other's true purity. Pure nakedness, pure longing, pure _lust._


	2. Part II

Happy Thanksgiving to all! I hope that those of you who celebrate this holiday have had an enjoyable time with friends and family. At any rate though, tonight I bring you the second part of "Kiss My Eyes And Lay Me To Sleep". This is the final part of the two, the conclusion of my very short romance story. And now, without any further adieu, please enjoy!!

* * *

By this time the sienna light of the sun was fading, allowing a rich plum to flood over the sky. Shimmering white stars began to light up the surrounding area, a cool breeze drifting through the air. This felt remarkably enlivening to Castiel, being that everywhere Dean touched sensationally burned like fire.

He was once again laying flat against the table, Dean hovering above him – domineering and in control. And finally, the time had come – the moment in which they had both been waiting for, for oh so long. Passionately Dean's eyes locked with his own as Dean slowly lowered his head. Castiel could feel his hair rising at the chill of Dean's breath, which was now fast and unsteady. With a flick of his tongue, Dean seductively licked his lips. He blinked awkwardly for a moment before opening his mouth and curving his lips around the tip of Castiel. Castiel threw his head back, arching his back – the feeling the bubbled inside of him was indescribable. It was almost as if the second Dean had touched him there, something awoke deep within himself. And he now realized just how stiff his vessel's body had become in that particular area.

Castiel shut his eyes tightly, gasping at the unfamiliar pleasure that was coursing through his veins. His fingers ran up and down the edges of the table, paint peeling under his fingernails as they went along. Cas just felt desperate enough to grab _anything _that was within reach. Dean wanted to smile at this – Castiel's franticness – but was obviously unable to at the moment, what with being preoccupied with Cas's dick and all. And speaking of which, Dean was really catching onto this blow job business rather quickly – a second nature, you could say. _A second nature? What the hell?!_ Dean mentally beat himself for that remark. This was just a onetime thing and nothing would ever come of it. Besides, with the world coming to a dramatic end and all, why not live in the moment? And as he moistly dragged his tongue in a rhythmic pattern – up and down, up and down – Dean couldn't help but like the way everything flowed so naturally between them. He certainly didn't mind the way Castiel was instinctively beginning to thrust his hips either. It was just simply amazing how even an angel could cripple beneath the weight of such a glorious sin – that being _lust_, of course.

Castiel's pores began to open, allowing sweat to drip freely out of them. Some suspenseful pressure was starting to build within him, and it just felt right to pump _harder_ and _faster_ into Dean's mouth. Unexpectedly, Castiel reached his hand down to Dean's hair, grabbing a tuft of it firmly. This could be used as some kind of maneuvering method, Castiel had apparently decided. He did not shove Dean so far that he might gag mind you, but just sort of guided his head through the bobbing motions.

Dean felt his face flush at Castiel's sudden movement – he certainly hadn't planned on being an angel's bitch anytime in his life, but that just seemed to be the route things had taken at this point. He sucked and squished vigorously, Castiel's thrusts getting rougher with every gesture. Dean could feel his own hands becoming needy, his palms sweating. He grabbed a hold of Castiel's upper thigh, rubbing it robustly. He dug his fingernails deeper, beginning to puncture the skin beneath his grasp.

Castiel sighed and moaned at this – although, it was difficult to tell whether he was attempting to show discomfort, or plain pleasure. This was followed by a series of grunts and moans escaping from within him. Forcefully he impelled himself more rapidly than ever before, his fingers and toes beginning to tingle. And finally, with an impulsive feeling of release, white flashed before them – hot and sticky white release. Castiel's eyes flew open, a hoarse gasp arising from his throat. He pushed his vessel's body upwards, allowing the rest of his cum to discharge – into Dean's mouth.

As soon as Castiel had fully relieved himself, Dean removed his lips from his penis gagging in disgust. He spat the white substance from his mouth, much in the way he had done with the holy water Bobby had splashed in his face upon his return from hell. He coughed and hacked a few more times, spewing cum all over the cement floor of the pavilion. "Dean, I–," Castiel began, feeling as if he had done something unmistakably wrong here.

Dean held up his hand to silence him. "It's okay, I–," he choked, "I should've seen it coming." Castiel remained hushed, simply blinking in confusion to Dean's statement – he wasn't even sure what it was that had just happened. All he knew was that Dean obviously hadn't gotten the same enjoyment out of the experience, being that his own cock was still stiff as a rock.

"I've done something wrong," Castiel stated plainly, although it sounded like more of a question.

Dean chuckled slightly at this. "Nah, not for being an angel anyway," he smirked. Castiel's expression remained indifferent, and so Dean cleared his throat. "Why'd you think that?"

Castiel sighed, glancing downward for a moment. His eyes widened as he caught another glimpse of Dean's nether region, silently nodding towards it. Dean looked down himself, a horny wave suddenly washing over him. "Oh, uh," Dean thought for a second, scratching the back of his head, "You might, um, want to turn over."

Castiel did as he was instructed, still not entirely certain of how this was going to satisfy Dean. Dean placed his hands gently on either side of the small of Castiel's back, bending him over slowly. Castiel could feel Dean's steamy breath of the edge of his ear as Dean leaned in to compliment, "You were _perfect._" The way Dean whispered his praise – it was so secretive and Castiel smiled contently before letting out a sigh of relief.

Dean made small kisses across Cas's upper shoulder and over to the side of his neck, making him flinch at the slight tickle. Tenderly Dean rubbed his hands up and down Castiel's smooth skin with his rough and callused hands. Castiel made a slight whimper and Dean chuckled somewhat. Cas could feel his heart rate picking up again, being that he feel Dean's penis brushing against the back of his upper thigh. Unhurriedly, Dean slid his hands down to Castiel's hips and planted them there. Castiel could feel what Dean was ready to do next – but suddenly he stopped him in his tracks.

"Dean," he said turning to face him, both of their naked bodies touching each other. He gradually slid his hands up Dean's check, lightly taking hold of his face. "Allow me," he commanded.

At first Dean looked as though someone had just bitch slapped him right across the cheek, but after a few blinks his expression softened. There really wasn't any appropriate response, so Dean just smiled with his eyes. Both he and Castiel swopped places so that Castiel was now the one in back, bending over Dean.

Castiel let out a long drawn sigh, before curving his hands – which were trembling – around Dean's waist. Dean closed his eyes and swallowed deeply. "Just do it quick," he murmured. Castiel nodded silently, before shutting his eyes himself. Slowly, Castiel began to slip himself inside before Dean hollered, "Quickly, damn it!"

Castiel followed Dean's demanding instructions, and forcefully pushed himself into Dean. This all felt overwhelmingly strange to him – not at all similar to what Dean had just previously done to him. But he pursued the same pattern as before, pumping in and out. _In_ and _out._ And gradually, everything began to flow in one uniform manner – hesitation transformed into confidence. Meanwhile Dean's painful grunts soon turned into pleasurable moans, which were music to Castiel's ears.

Dean clutched the picnic table underneath him until his knuckles began to turn white. He threw his head back, tiny beads of sweat flying into the air. "Ah," he gasped, unable to fathom any constructive words at the moment. He just seemed to lose himself in the way Castiel managed to thrust himself into Dean – compassion, with just a hint of uncertainty to follow.

Out of nowhere, Castiel's hand emerged from somewhere in which it had been hidden behind Dean. Carefully he slid it down Dean's pelvic region, handling all it touched with much care. Dean's eyes rolled back into his head as Castiel lightly began to dance his fingers over anything and everything. Finally he wrapped his fingers around Dean's dick and slid them up and down – slowly at first but then gaining speed, _faster_ and_ faster_.

It was somehow in this moment that Castiel's fingers happened to sync with the speed of his own pumping, creating a mesmerizing connection between them. "So," Dean grunted, "How's it feel to be committing _lust_?"

_Lust_ – it lingered in Castiel's mind for a moment, before a pang of guilt struck through him. However, it quickly vanished, for Castiel realized he had no reason in which to feel blameworthy. Dean loved him and he Dean, so why shouldn't they enjoy all the passions there was to offer one another? Cas smiled in satisfaction, leaning his sweaty forehead against Dean's likewise perspiring back. "Better than you'll ever know," he murmured into Dean's skin.

Dean snickered somewhat at this, but then his expression softened for a moment. His eyes glazed a bit, before the reality of the situation finally dawned on Dean. _He loves me – honest to God loves me._ He shut his eyes tightly in attempts to keep the warm tears that were building contained.

Castiel was thrusting much faster now – rubbing his hand quickly over Dean as well. Dean could feel Cas's breath becoming pants against his back, an overwhelming sensation building within him. Desperately he grasped Castiel's other arm, wanting to hold on and never let go.

Castiel was the first to cum – hot and clammy inside of Dean. He let out a deep cry before swallowing hard, struggling to regain his breath. Dean released shortly after, spilling himself about Cas's hand. Castiel didn't really seem to mind though, for he wrapped his arms around Dean's chest drawing him even closer – his hands were nestled placidly atop Dean's heart.

Castiel loved the feeling of Dean's pulse beneath his fingertips – so close, it was unbelievable. And for a brief second, Cas could feel his own heart pumping along with Dean's, slightly faster though. He was so content, but also very exhausted. It was difficult to imagine that if merely a year ago you would have told Castiel he'd be engaging in such acts, he would have deemed you a _liar_ and _blasphemous_. Never the less, here they stood, _together_. And Castiel smiled at this, unwilling to hide his happiness any longer.

Dean, however, was feeling quite different. He was _pleased_, yet _disgusted_ – _confused,_ yet _balanced _in perfect_ harmony._ And he could no longer hide the tears that were beginning to stream down his cheeks, letting out an abrupt sniffle. Castiel opened his eyes at this – opened them, and turned Dean's body so that he could see his face. The whites of Dean's eyes were beginning to flood with a vibrant red, causing his lovely hazel to really stand forth.

Castiel gently lifted one of his hands to Dean's cheek, caressing it tenderly. "Dean, what's the matter?" he soothed.

Dean closed his eyes, allowing his face to rest against Castiel firm and sturdy hand. He raised one of his own hands to meet Cas's, cupping it tightly. He sniffed once more, before opening his eyes and clearing his throat. "Do you love me?" he murmured.

A smile took hold of the corners of Castiel's lips, curling them upward. With his other hand he wiped away Dean's tears and fixed some ruffles of hair. "Of course," Castiel replied, his voice barely touching a whisper, "I have loved you your whole life, Dean."

Dean took hold of Cas's hand, which was busy fidgeting with his hair. They eyes locked for what felt like an eternity before Dean broke the silence. "Why?" That was all he could manage, due to the growing lump wrenching in his throat.

Castiel tilted his head in that adorable but ridiculous manner. He moistened his lips, prior to placing both of his hands firmly about Dean's temples. "Because you're Dean Winchester," he stated simply, "I've known you since– since before the day of your birth. I watched you as you formed in your mother's womb – day after day, month after month, transforming into the man which you are now. And I've seen all of your sufferings. _Every single suffering_, Dean. I've had to stand by and simply observe for far too long – until now. Now, I finally have a chance to touch what I was never allowed to before."

Dean coughed and choked on more tears which were to follow. "But all those horrible things I've done–,"

Castiel would not allow Dean to say the words in which he knew he longed to. "You don't believe you deserve it," Cas finished for him, "Which you do not. But Dean, I– I've never held so much regard for a human. _Never_. And it seems that no matter your faults, or how unrighteous you become, you will by no means fall in my eyes. For I am not here to judge you, Dean – I am here to replenish and strengthen you. If that cannot be deemed _love_, then please enlighten me in what can."

One last crystal tear fell from Dean's eyes. The world stopped in its place, as if it ceased to exist to begin with – everything just fading into a blur. Dean grasped Castiel's shoulders, smothering him in hot and slobbery kisses. "Oh damn it, Cas," he breathed between each one, "you're so stupid. You could have anyone you want."

Castiel hastily pushed Dean away. He held him resolutely, shaking him slightly. "Listen to me – I do not want just _anyone_, Dean Winchester. The only one I wish for is you – _only you_." With this, he drew Dean nearer once more. Their lips conjoined, their silhouettes forming one dark shape amidst the other darkness that surrounded them.

Dean's fingers curved, his fingernails scraping down Castiel's back. Their tongues entwined briefly, before their kiss was eventually broken. And here the two stood, cradling each other – afraid that if they ever let go, the world would literally crumble around them.

And yet, amongst the chaos of bewilderment that encased them, light could be found within each of them. Pure and solid standing light, that could not be tainted any means. Light so bright, one could think they were on fire from a distance.

Dean just grasped Castiel's skin in the palm of his hands, closing his eyes and allowing all of his sobs to flow freely into Cas's shoulder. And all the while, he breathed in Castiel's wonderful scent – cleanliness like that of air after a fresh snow fall, polluted with just a hint of sweat. Ah, simply the best thing to smell in the entire world. Hell, a bacon cheeseburger couldn't even top that! Not at the moment, anyway. Dean continued to cry away all of his shame and pain that had built up over the years, not even noticing as everything surrounding him pulled away.

Dean's eyelids gently fluttered open. His eyes themselves felt sore and achy, a touch of dampness about the lashes. He darted them all over where it was he had come to be laying – realization setting in that he was indeed back in the motel room. Sammy was lying peacefully on the bed across from him, just as he had left him. _A dream?_ The thought flowed over Dean's mind hazily.

For a moment Dean would've been ready to accept the fact that it was all a dream – all the wonderful notions Castiel had whispered to him turning out to be figments of his dearly beloved imagination. That is, until he felt a reassuring hand drift over his bare skin. He jolted beneath the bed sheets, turning to face Castiel. He just snuggled aside of Dean, no longer damp with sweat but radiantly peaceful. With a gentle tug on Cas's chin, Dean brought their lips together once more in a passionate embrace.

Castiel smiled at this, his sapphire eyes dazzling. Swiftly, he spread his legs and wrapped them around Dean, hurling himself upward. Now that he was comfortably atop Dean, he placed one hand on the pillow beside Dean's head for support. Meanwhile, the other caressed Dean's cheek lovingly.

"Cas," Dean whispered, pausing their physical activity momentarily, "I love you too."

Castiel smiled, not saying a word because he simply did not have to. Instead, he decided to continue with his physical approach, beginning to run his lips up and down Dean's neck similar to the way Dean had done to him at the bridge. Only this time, Dean did not feel conflicted but felt love.

Pure and honest _love_. This love was a new feeling to him – at least receiving it from outside of the family was anyway. And so he did not stop Castiel on his quest to discover all there was to be known about passionate interaction. For _love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, and it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres._

And Dean now possessed faith – faith and hope for their new love. Hope that it would blossom and that no force, good or evil, would be able to take it from them. That they would be able to relish in tranquility forever, with no doubt or hesitation to bombard them or cause them harm. For Dean now had the internal peace of faith in Castiel – angel of the Lord.

"This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith," Castiel had once said to him. Well that most certainly was Dean's problem no longer, being that he now _loved_ the angel, Castiel, and nothing could ever change that.

Dean allowed his eyelids to slowly close, a peaceful darkness enveloping him. Still, he could feel Castiel's hands all about him. And now, Castiel gently leaned over and touched his lips to Dean's eyelids – kissing his eyes and laying him to sleep.

_And now these three remain: Faith, Hope, and Love – but the greatest of these is Love_.

* * *

I hope that you all took pleasure in this extremely brief account. If need be, please give me some constructive criticism – for I'm always open to advice. I'm in the process of working on yet another chapter for "A Struggle For Affection" and shall hopefully have it posted sometime over the weekend. Thank you for reading, and goodnight :)


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